My Secret Lover

December 12, 193_,

My writing of these reminisces remains secret as I had planned; kept in a locked drawer of my desk between the times at which I add to them, they are safe from prying eyes. I can feel secure that they will be unread by anyone before the turn of the next millennium.

The very act of penning the first tale added to the joy of reliving the incidents in my mind and brought a warmth to me that I very much wish to continue. Thus I am beginning my second writing soon after finishing the first and sending it to my solicitors.

As in the earlier writing, dates, names and places have been changed to protect my identity and those of the other participants. No blue-nosed hypocrite shall find fertile ground here for his persecution of those who do not think or act in accord with his narrow vision of human sexuality.

To those who read this at some future time: enjoy it if you will; discard it if you can't. But I remain sanguine in my knowledge that whatever the level of approbation or censure it receives, I shall be beyond knowing or caring.

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The troop train on which I was riding that late July afternoon in 191_ was stifling; the windows had to remain closed to prevent our asphyxiation by the coal smoke that was issuing copiously from the engine and there was not a vacant seat in my car. To add to our discomfort, the army had decreed in its wisdom that we must wear our dress uniforms when traveling by military train without respect to the weather or our comfort. The top ranks of course used a more congenial form of transport. I had had the option of taking a civilian train, but the war had caused the conversion of most civilian trains to military use and it would have been days until I was able to board even a train of uncertain destinations and timetable.

I had just spent three weeks in a military hospital, recovering from wounds received fighting in the trenches in France. My presence in the trenches was happenstance for I was Captain of Supply and was usually far enough behind the lines that I was beyond the range of even the long-range German guns. On this occasion a large enemy assault had forced Headquarters to throw the nominal non-combatants into the line and I had found myself in a trench when the Huns overran it. I was wounded, but my position was quickly retaken and I was spared the ignominy of capture.

My evacuation to a field hospital where my wounds were treated was followed by transport on a troop ship back to England where I enjoyed the hospitality of the Army Medical Corps until I was judged well enough to be sent home on convalescent leave. The wound in my right shoulder still gave me a certain amount of discomfort and my arm was in a sling. The curious circumstance about my wound was that sometimes the pain seemed to migrate to my leg. The Army Doctors had said that there was no injury there and they had found no reason for it except for some babble about hysterical pain; a transparent attempt to cover their ignorance.

I was headed for the home of my older sister Mary in Sussex. She and her husband James had firmly insisted that I spend as much of my leave as I desired with them and I had gratefully agreed. My parents, Edward and Katherine A_, had both urged me to stay with Mary at least for the remainder of the summer for London was extremely uncomfortable during August and the country would be better both for my physical and mental states. There were always people coming and going at Mary's house and I would have company if I desired it, though the house was big enough that I could be alone as much as I needed.

My parents lived in London and had regularly been to see me in the hospital. Mother had taken a hotel room during the first few weeks of my incarceration and stayed there while father traveled back and forth to London to attend to his sizable commercial holdings. I can't say that my stay was pleasant, but the presence of the two of them made it much more bearable and I was most grateful.

The landscape began to be familiar and I knew I was approaching my station. I gingerly prepared myself for standing, and when my station was called I slowly arose, took my duffel with my left hand and headed for the exit. As the train came to a stop amidst clouds of steam and squealing brakes, I descended to the platform. As I set foot upon solid ground once again, I heard a feminine voice yelling,

"There he is!"

I looked up and saw four exquisite examples of the female sex making their way toward me through the crowd; my sister Mary, my niece Penelope and two of an age with Penelope whom I did not know.

Penelope was the first to reach me and she gave me light hug and a kiss on the cheek, carefully avoiding my encased right arm. I dropped the duffel and returned the hug.

"Welcome back, Uncle Alfred," she said excitedly.

"Thanks, Penny, it's good to be home," I said.

She gave a little mock pout. She had been called Penny when she was younger, but now went by Penelope. She allowed me this liberty because, she said, I was her favorite uncle.

Mary came up to me and repeated Penny's performance.

"It's so good to have you back Alfred," she said. "We were so worried when we heard you were wounded. How are you feeling."

"The shoulder still bothers me," I said. "But all I need is some rest and tender loving care to make it right."

"Well, you've certainly come to the right place for that," she said with a smile. "Let me introduce you to Penelope's classmates."

She turned toward the two other girls and put her hand on the shoulder of one of them. "Alfred, this is Marjorie, Marjorie my brother Alfred."

Marjorie was a slender, vibrant looking girl with dark hair and wide inquisitive brown eyes. I bowed slightly to her and said,

"I am pleased to meet you, Marjorie."

She smiled and said, "Pleased to meet you."

Mary touched the shoulder of the other girl and said, "And this is Susan."

Susan was a well-proportioned girl with blond hair and deep blue eyes. Here figure bordered on voluptuousness and it was clear that in a few years this trait would develop most enticingly.

"I am most pleased to make your acquaintance," I said as I bowed slightly.

She giggled at the formality of my words, which I had made purposely pompous in order to see if I could evoke a laugh.

As if to beat me at my own game, she curtsied low and arose.

"I am most honored to meet you, Captain" she said with a twinkle in her eye.

Mary smiled indulgently at us and said, "The carriage is right over here."

Penelope and Marjorie reached for my duffel at the same time and after a brief confrontation, agreed that they would both carry it.

The ride to the estate was pleasant; the girls were excited and pelted me with questions about how I was wounded, what it was like at the front and what it was like for nurses (Marjorie was considering becoming a nurse.) As we approached the end of our journey, my shoulder began to ache more insistently and I resolved that when we arrived I would take one of the morphia tablets I had been given for pain. I had obtained them at the hospital before I left, but had not needed them heretofore.

I was given a room on the ground floor in a wing that was little used so that I could have whatever privacy I desired. There was a rope pull near the bed for summoning a servant, and I was left alone to rest and refresh myself until such time as I would make an appearance. I was told that dinner was at six, but that I could have it in bed if I so desired. When I was alone I took the morphia, laid down on my bed without disrobing, and promptly fell asleep.

I awoke muzzily but relatively free of pain. Washing and dressing were slow processes, but by ten minutes until six I was presentable and made my way to the parlour where the house's inhabitants were gathered for a preprandial drink. Susan and Marjorie were there as well, for, as I had been informed, they and Penelope were preparing for a party to celebrate their commencement from the girl's school they had attended.

James led me to a large, comfortable chair and asked, "What will you have to drink, Alfred?"

"Whisky and soda, please," I responded.

The drink and the meal, taken with the background of the three girls discussing their party, were most soothing. Mary, James and I caught up on the family happenings and I told them about some of my experiences in the Army. My attention began to fade shortly after the end of the meal and I excused myself, went back to my room, took another tablet of morphia, undressed and went to bed. My sleep was deep and undisturbed.

I languished in bed the next morning, feeling well rested but not interested in any activity. In the late morning the nurse who had been assigned by the Army to make periodic visits to me during my convalescence arrived.

"Good morning, Mr. A," she said as she came into my room after my invitation in response to her knock. "I'm Nurse Sandra M and I'll be stopping in from time to time to see how you are doing."

She had an engaging smile and was a full figured woman with light brown hair and entrancing eyes. Her nurse's uniform displayed her curves without any hint of subterfuge. I felt a stirring in my loins, for I had not made love to a woman since an unsatisfactory encounter with a lady of the evening in France three months previously. I surreptitiously shifted my position so as not to reveal my reaction.

"Good morning," I said. "I'm sure that I'll not find your visits intrusive."

She smiled at that and began unwrapping my shoulder. We talked of this and that as she worked. She was from a nearby town, was unmarried and had been working as a nurse on the home front since the war began. The pleasant conversation, her closeness and the faint odor of lilacs that she exuded were producing a definite response in me. I had to change my position twice to avoid displaying my increasing turgidity. It was for naught; she finally stopped pretending not to notice and reached down and gave my manhood a light squeeze through the sheet, producing a noticeable jerk of my legs.

"I suspect you haven't been with a woman for some time. Is that true?" she asked in a low sultry voice.

"That's true," I replied in a croak as she started to move her hand up and down.

She reached up and pulled the sheet down around my ankles and regained her hold on my manhood. Her touch was exquisitely exciting and I moaned as she resumed her up and down motion.

"I don't do this for all of my patients," she said teasingly. "But your reaction to me shows you to be a truly deserving one and I can't resist a patient in need."

My only response to this was a long exhalation and an arching of my back. Soon she leaned over and lightly licked the underside of my manhood producing another moan and gritting of my teeth. She put me inside of her mouth and began slowly moving her head up and down as her tongue continued its laving of my most sensitive area. The sensation produced by her soft mouth and slightly rough tongue was rapidly producing a climax. She sensed it and began to quicken her head and tongue movements. I reached down and put my hands on the back of her head as if to keep her from discontinuing her ministrations, but that necessity never arose as her fellating of me continued unabated. My climax came and I made one tremendous thrust of my pelvis into her face. She continued her attentions to my manhood as I shot a second, then a third portion of love juice into her mouth. She swallowed it all, seemingly without effort and kept me in her mouth as I rapidly shrank. Eventually, my flaccid love tool slipped from between her smiling lips and she reached for the sheet and brought it up to my chest. She straightened up and began to collect her implements.

"I want to bring you pleasure," I told her.

She turned toward me and smiled. "Later, perhaps, if you still want to. Now you need to get your strength back. You needed that more than I do."

With that she picked up her bag and was gone.

Hunger drove me to the parlour just shy of the luncheon hour to find Mary and the three girls heading into the dining room. James, I was told, was off attending to business.

Penelope came over to me, took my good arm and eyed me critically.

"You look better rested, but undernourished," she said. "A few weeks of Mrs. T's cooking will do wonders for you."

"I'm certainly ready for it," I said as she led me into the dining room. "The Army's cooks are not renowned for their haute cuisine."

During luncheon I discovered that the party would be the next evening in the ballroom and there would be a shortage of young men because of the war. The girls unanimously urged me to attend the party, even if I felt like staying only a short while. I agreed, not reluctantly, as the thought of being one of the few males in a room full of young women for an evening appealed to me, especially since I would likely be the oldest man there and would have the added attraction of being a wounded war hero.

Afternoon passed languidly into evening and I retired somewhat later than I had the night before. I was feeling pleasantly tired and with little pain, so I eschewed the morphia before getting into bed. I was asleep within minutes.

Some time later I was awakened by a sound. Looking around in the almost pitch-blackness, I saw movement near the door and shortly a figure moved toward me. I could tell it was a woman, but her identity was hidden by the dark. Her robe fell from her shoulders onto the floor and I could tell she was nude. She moved toward the bed and I slid to my left to make room. She pulled down the sheet, sliding into bed and up against me in one move. She gave me a light kiss, then began applying kisses down my body toward my loins. I brought my left arm down from behind my head to caress her, but she returned it to its previous position. Satisfied to allow her full reign of my body without interference, I laid back and reveled in her attentions.

Her right hand stroked the inside of my thighs as her mouth reached my pubic hair. She grabbed some of my pubic hair between her teeth and gave it a playful tug, emitting a little giggle as she did so. Her right hand reached my testicles and caressed and squeezed them gently as her mouth slid lower toward my manhood. Then she took my love muscle in her hand and guided it toward her mouth. I could feel her left hand going between her legs as she changed position slightly to allow it access, and soon she was moving that hand briskly. She began using her tongue on the tip of my manhood as her hand slowly stroked up and down; intermittently her tongue touched the sensitive underside and my back involuntarily arched slightly as I gave a soft groan.

Just as I felt that I would explode into her mouth, she released me and swiftly, though with great care for my injured shoulder, straddled my hips. Reaching down she grabbed me with her hand and with a slight shift of her position, placed the tip of my manhood into her. She rocked slowly back and forth, sliding my root into her a bit further with each forward movement. Finally I was completely inside of her and she leaned forward, braced her hands against my chest, and resumed her rocking motion in earnest. I longed to reach out and fondle her breasts, which I knew were swaying erotically only a slight distance away from my face, but she had come to me and made the rules of our encounter, so I stayed my hands. The intense pleasure of my manhood sliding in and out of her soft, moist vagina was building my excitement at an increasing rate.

Slight gasps began to escape her lips as she continued her movements; we both were approaching climax. Her thrusts became more rapid and shortly her body began to writhe and her rapid breathing turned into moans of ecstasy. She came with a slight grunt but continued her movements and rapidly climaxed twice more. The knowledge of this incredible woman having multiple orgasms while astride me, though I could not see her, gave me the final incentive I need. I grabbed the sheet in both hands, threw my head back and gave a mighty thrust of my pelvis as I shot my first load of love juice into her. She maintained her position by squeezing her legs together and grasping my hips tightly. My second and third ejaculations were less violent, but by no means less pleasurable. Finally I began to subside and as I did so she became still except for her rapid breathing. We rested for a few moments in that position then she gingerly dismounted, left the bed and bent over to regain the robe she had discarded before our carnal encounter.

"Who are you?" I whispered.

She gently put two fingers over my mouth, fastened her robe and silently left the room.

To say that I was bemused would be understating the situation. There were three young ladies in the house who could have been my partner. None of the female servants had the youth that I had sensed in her and neither had Mary. I was not naïve enough to believe that going to a proper girls' school would keep any young woman from gaining sexual experience if she had sufficient pluck and curiosity, no matter how mightily her parents might wish it. I turned over what I had observed of Penelope's two friends, and what I had learned of Penelope during her entire lifetime, but could come to no firm conclusion. I was leaning toward Susan because of our exchange at the train station, but had Penelope's touches since I had arrived been as innocent as they seemed at the time? And Marjorie? Could I have mistaken sexual interest in her eyes for innocent interest? It was a pleasant exercise, but somnolence soon overtook me and I slipped into a satisfied sleep.

I arose well-rested the next morning and continued my guessing game as I performed my ablutions, but to no more certain conclusion than I had the night before. Making my way to the dining room, I found Mary there alone drinking tea.

"Good morning," I said.

"Good morning, Alfred," Mary said with a smile. "Come join me. Everyone else has finished but I'll keep you company while you eat."

"Delighted," I said. Mary and I had been close as we grew up and although she was older than I was, she hadn't had the disdain for younger brothers that an older sister often has. In fact, I had never known her to treat anyone with less than courtesy, and she had an open, honest demeanor.

The eggs and bacon were hot and plentiful, and Mrs. T made sourdough bread that enticed the palate like no other. Unlike most of my countrymen, I preferred coffee to tea and was kept in good supply throughout the meal. I learned that the party was to begin at seven. I had no formal attire with me since I had not stopped by my home on the way, but Mary assured me that James was of a size with me and that I could borrow one of his dinner jackets.

After breakfast Mary had to leave to help in the final preparations for the evening's gala, so I was left to my own devices. I went to the library to look for reading material to pass the time and found it much as I had remembered, though more shelves had been added. As I inspected the visible tomes, I found a tall, narrow cabinet in the back on which the doors were closed and upon further inspection, found that the doors were locked. Curiosity impelled me to search for the key, and shortly I found a likely candidate in the top left drawer of the massive walnut desk near the window.

I tried the key and found that it unlocked the cabinet quite easily. As I opened the doors I caught sight of a number of shelves with books of varied thickness and a number of manuscripts on the lowest shelf. I removed one of the books from top shelf and found that it was entitled My Secret Life. Intrigued, I opened the cover and found that it was a privately written book detailing the sexual exploits of an anonymous Victorian gentleman. Upon further investigation, I found that all of the volumes contained erotic literature. Extending my inquiry to the manuscripts on the bottom shelf, I found that they too were filled with erotic passages and they all appeared to be written in the same hand. Judicious searching in the desk drawers confirmed that the hand was that of my brother-in-law James.